Back In The Saddle

I got a kind of love that makes me very very angry. I have a love that has settled from my tip to my toes, filling me up with joy and purpose. It gives me clarity. It gives me community. It gives me a sense of devotion to others that drives my soul like an engine. This love makes me whole and happy and content. And because it makes me whole and happy and content, when something picks on my love it makes me very very angry. A single thing that threatens the love I know, fills me with an anger so dense and so vicious, I feel it overtake my body like a fever. Like mud in my stomach and electricity in my veins, it takes that engine, that love so dutifully made, and puts it in overdrive. Sometimes there's something I can do with this righteous loving anger, usually there is not. And so it churns my stomach and grinds my gears. It is such an angry, vicious feeling to love what you love.

It is the definition of callousness to demand the wounded weep for their attacker just because hes dead.

If today was the end of the world, I would have spent enough time loving to feel my life was worthwhile. And since today is not the end of the world, I have so much more time with which to love others.

This blog might be about gay little poems first and foremost. But after that its about my personal taste in country music.